


We're Throwing Off Sparks

by WeirdItalianPlumber



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: F/M, but everything that happens in this is 100 percent consensual, but it's something the characters would say, one use of a mental type slur, set during/right after 12x10, some mild reference to dubious consent, they're so jealous and angry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 03:01:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11888565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeirdItalianPlumber/pseuds/WeirdItalianPlumber
Summary: "Dee is jealous and angry that, even after all they've been through since they slept together, Charlie STILL went back to The Waitress. She's even more angry that he may have gotten her pregnant on purpose. Charlie on the other hand, is still upset that Dee's been sleeping around to make him jealous and then laughed in his face at his love song for her. They get into a heated argument on the night Dennis leaves, which leads to angry, jealous, and passionate sex. Dee's determined to make Charlie see that she's better for him than The Waitress."





	We're Throwing Off Sparks

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [SunnySmutFest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SunnySmutFest) collection. 



> Yes, it's another chardee fic. But this prompt just called to me- I wrote the whole thing in a few hours. Thanks to haemophilus for betaing!
> 
> If anyone reads most of my stuff you know I'm awful at coming up with titles. This one comes from Oceanographer's Choice by The Mountain Goats. (I'm so sorry, John Darnielle, that your beautiful lyrics are being used like this)

"Ugh!" Charlie groans as his phone rings again. He looks down at the name, "She won't leave me alone." He drags out the last syllable, sounding frustrated and dramatic. 

Dee continues staring straight ahead at the tv, only moving to turn up the volume with the remote. Charlie looks over at the intentional display of apathy, which only irritates him further. "Why are you being such a bitch about this?" 

She hits the mute button and the sudden silence is deafening, "You should be goddamn grateful that I haven't kicked you out of my apartment. This shouldn't be my problem. You got yourself in this situation!” 

It's almost midnight, and it's been a long and weird day. After enlisting them all to get out of it, Dennis left the state to go play dad of the year. They blew up his precious range rover, and went home. Without drinking or fighting, they locked up the bar and left. She had just settled onto the couch with a movie, when Charlie showed up, announcing that the Waitress was waiting outside his building, and he needed a place to hide. He just sat down next to her without asking, complaining that the movie was boring, until she finally turned it off just to shut him up. 

"You can at least care about my problems some. You're being awful selfish, Dee." 

“I've got my own shit going on. My brother just ran off with his kid and baby mama. Seems like this whole maybe kid thing should be pretty great for you.” 

“And the hundreds of guys you sleep with is any better? They don't give a shit about you. Quit trying to convince yourself that it means anything. You're just a chance for sex.” Charlie says, tone bitter. 

“Oh, you think your precious waitress actually wants you?” Dee scoffs. “She's just trying to get money out of this. You've wasted half your life- all our lives- on someone who hates you.” 

She stands up to storm away, not sure where she's going, but hell bent on getting the last word. Charlie's not finished though. 

"And another thing, Dee?! You act like some kind of psycho all day trying to get a Valentine and when you finally get one, you laugh at me!" 

She spins around and stares down at him for a beat, it'd been almost a month; Dee's not sure if she's more angry or surprised that he brought it up. "The guys were right there. It's the only thing I could do. You kind of put me on the spot.” 

His gaze is hard, challenging, and _goddammit_ , Dee thinks, _he's a stubborn bastard_. 

"Then don't make me do it in front of everyone" he states, shortly, like it's the most obvious thing. 

"No one’s around now." Dee is quick- grabbing Charlie and kissing him, climbing on his lap, pinning him against the couch. He lets her kiss him, hands resting on her back, as her tongue is forced into his mouth. It feels good, but he realizes she's just using him, for sex, to make herself feel better, for whatever it is that Dee does. 

Charlie's reminded of Ben and Rex, guys she berated into sleeping with her, the countless others who have been in this situation.  _You got to stand up for yourself, man_ , his own voice echoes in his head. Faster and more coordinated than either could have anticipated, Charlie flips them both over. He pins Dee down, eyes burning into hers, a fight for dominance- both physically and figuratively. 

It's a bit of a surprise; men don't fight her back and Charlie is the last person she expected it from. The handful of times they'd been together, he'd been sweet and gentle, something from those romance movies she loves, but this new energy was unusual and hot, and she wanted it to keep going. Dee pulls her shirt over her head, and realizes that she was already in pajamas- no bra. The tension gets heavier. 

" _Fuck you_ " she whispers hot and breathy, hoping to anger him further. 

Charlie glares down at her; instead of fighting back, he sits up, and Dee follows, disappointed and confused. 

He drops down to his knees, trailing light kisses lower and lower. Then shifting the waistband of her panties and planting a wet kiss on her hipbone. Her shuddering breath fuels his efforts, becoming more determined to impress her more than those assholes she always flaunted at him ever could. He pauses, leaving her hanging, and when she looks down to question why, Charlie yanks the remaining layers all the way off. It leaves her completely exposed, and only feeling a fleeting moment of cool air before his warm mouth returns. His lips part her, the tip of his tongue flicks out and makes brief contact with her clit. It's enough to make her squirm and reach down to grip his messy hair. 

He licks her again and again, long strokes, tongue wide and flat. Just when she's about to instruct a change in pattern, he draws circles with the tip of his tongue, and _shit_ , it's so good, but she can't let him know that. She's so close, just needs a little more, and manages to get out in an almost bored and even voice, "is that all you got, Charlie?"  

It works, because he slides a finger in her, then another, pressing in to the base of his knuckles, then curling them both, holding it there before slowly relaxing and reflexing, one, two, three times, mouth pressing and sucking against her, before she's tightening around him, thighs shaking. 

He sits back, watching as she rides out her orgasm, one hand still fingering at her, pulling her through the aftershocks, while another is wrapped around his hard dick, already beading with precum. There's a smug look on his face knowing damn well that was good, and while she must admit it was well earned, Dee still kind of wants to smack that expression off his face. 

Senses returning to normal, Dee slides off the couch, landing with her face only inches from Charlie's. She moves in to taste herself on him, and as he leans closer to reach her mouth, his erection presses against her bare leg. It must be enough because he stops jerking himself, and his hands land on her. She strokes his cock lightly, just enough to tease, and she rubs her leg against him, building pressure. He looks like an idiot, Dee observes fondly, kneeling there, shirt on and pants around his knees, skin flushed and lightly panting. She grabs the hem of his shirt, and together they pull it off- he still looks ridiculous, but less so. 

Charlie inhales against her mouth, wrapping both arms around her and tipping them both onto the floor. There's no need for communication; as soon as he's lying flat, Dee swings her leg over him, rubbing her thumb over the sensitive head of his cock. She grasps it to sink onto. Charlie's eyes roll back in bliss as she takes him in. She waits until this initial surge of pleasure passes before resting her palms on his chest and rolling her hips. 

Dee lowers herself. Rubbing her body against his savoring the close warmth and the fullness of him pressing inside her. She nibbles and sucks on his neck. He whimpers lightly and Dee revels in causing this moment of weakness. She’s determined to leave her mark; the next time he sees the Waitress, it'll be there, for her to see, to know that for a short time, he belonged to someone else. That she's not the only woman in his life. 

Dee swirls her hips around him, enjoying when his cock hits that exact right spot or when the friction of their bare skin causes her to part and her still swollen clit rubs against his warm belly. Charlie twitches up into her, chasing his own orgasm, and Dee sits back up rocking with his thrusts, determined to make him come harder than he ever has before, ensuring that he'll always associate the best sex he's ever had with her. 

His fingertips press into her hips, squeezing harder as she grinds against him; it's going to leave bruises, she knows, and it's almost poetic justice; they try to escape each other this way, lie and say it doesn't mean anything, but now they're both marked by the other. 

He's close now, movement becoming uneven and desperate, and Dee's surprised to find that she is, too; she reaches down to rub herself. It's been far too long since she's gotten off twice in one night, and it only takes a few swirls of her fingertips before another wave of pleasure washes through her. Maybe it's her spasming around his cock, or her soft gasps and moans, but Dee feels a new warmth inside her, and knows that Charlie just came, too. Fuck being mad at him because that was incredible. It was better than all the times she lied to herself that there was a connection with some guy, and she can almost guarantee it was better than his stupid attempt to finally get the Waitress. 

She rolls off, stretching next to him on the floor sighing a "Goddammit, Charlie." This time it’s meant as a good thing. 

Instead of responding, he reaches on the couch, and feels around for a pillow. He grabs it and places it under his head, letting out a contented sigh. Dee looks over at him, "What about me, asshole?" she asks, playfully shoving his shoulder. 

He wordlessly reaches over, gently pulling her to rest in the crook of his arm, as if the answer had always been obvious. It's hot and sweaty, but laying like this is so comforting. She easily forgets how gross they both probably look, how not too long ago she was ready to kill him. 

It’s risky, Dee realizes, both of them naked, laying in the middle of her living room floor, wrapped around each other. She disdainfully acknowledges how they're both too old to be on the floor like this, how they should be past that stage in life of dancing around feelings for your best friend, that sex should have some sort of definition at this point. 

But for now it’s good, and maybe that's enough, a series of good, somewhat sporadic, moments connecting together.


End file.
